Clash of the Classics
by Prof3ss3r Marsi
Summary: Endeavour Morse is in big trouble, firstly he got arrested, then he got shot, and now he's headed for a clash with some of the most dangerous people ever to hit Oxford. AU post Neverland, and not completely cannon. Original characters, Au, and not exactly flowing into the Inspector Morse series. (Sorry).
1. An Inappropriate Introduction

**I do not own anything from the wonderful world of Colin Dexter, neither in Morse or Endeavour. This fanfiction, will be only slightly cannon, with lots of AU. But also there will be some original characters to make things interesting. Anyways, I hope you enjoy. If you feel like it, please review otherwise, I hope you enjoy my story.**

DI Martin Tate stood there trying very hard not to laugh at the recently arrested DC Morse. He had sat at county for five weeks while the murder of Chief Constable Standish was investigated. While Morse and his career were both curious, what was occurring right at that very moment was particularly amusing. Although, what had preceded it was not….

It had started out innocently and annoying enough. Martin was drumming his fingers on a table listening to some poor constable try to deal with a singularly irate young woman. She was actually trying to see the young Morse in question, but due to his crime, he was not permitted visitation just yet. She was not backing down in the least. Martin was just about to get up and deal with her person when the door to the cell block burst open and about fifteen armed prisoners emerged from below. And unfortunately one of them was quick enough to grab the girl.

The prisoners were holding guns, surrounding the officers in the room. Martin stared trying to figure out how the hell this happened and what to do about it. He was a little scared if he had to admit it. The other officers were scared too, but trying to keep order, most of them. There was actually one blubbering under his desk. That was when he saw it, a young gaunt man walking up behind the group, he stood to the side taking in everything. His eyes went straight to the young woman, they widened; he started looking around.

"Oi!" he raised his head up, and without much difficulty he managed to look completely nonthreatening. Not that Martin had thought the handful of times he had seen him that he ever was. Truth be told, he had a little bit of trouble believing that he did in fact kill Standish.

"What the hell are you doing?" He just shrugged. He handed Morse a pistol and waved him over. Martin watched him weigh the pistol, and have a look around.

"Hey, stork." Morse turned with a raised eyebrow. "What you in for?" He bristled for a moment.

"Murder, and yourself." Morse was still looking around.

"Rape." Tate saw Morse go livid and shook his head at the young man. Morse blinked and nodded. Tate was sure right there and then, whatever else he was Morse was a copper. Especially as his focus kept drifting to the hostage.

"What exactly would the plan be in this situation?" Morse asked the man holding the girl. "Forgive me but we are in a police station, at any moment there are bound to be officers coming in for shift change, or at the very least some kind of request, not to mention members of the public with some kind of complaint." He continued to step slightly closer to the man keeping an eye on the girl. "How exactly are we supposed to leave?"

"All right there genius, how do you propose we do it?" Morse turned to the man and blinked.

"Figures…." Before the man turned around Morse began speaking looking at the phone on the desk.

"We obviously need to contact some getaway vehicles."

"You crazy, these bleedin' coppers will take us out before we can get outside." Morse snorted and looked at him.

"Isn't it obvious, move them to the back, we've the firearms, move them behind the desks and out of the common area and then we have open view of the door and them."

Tate was listening, he saw DI Lawrence Carson turn to him looking between he and Morse. It occurred to both of them what he was doing. He was giving the officers cover in case they started firing.

"Wait just a moment…." Carson looked up and Tate breathed. Morse turned and appraised the man who was speaking to him. He was tall, a good two inches over Morse, thin like him, although he carried himself better. Whereas Morse had the tendency to come off as an underfed schoolboy, this young man came off as aristocratic. Morse waited patiently for him to speak, the man who looked only a couple years older lest he missed his guess, appraised him as well.

"Do you mind if I make a call?" Morse blinked. "Your suggestion of making a getaway, has merit, but you are lacking the transportation, something I can provide. And since you are the only beacon of intelligence in the group of cretins, might I suggest we familiarize ourselves and work together?" Morse breathed.

"You use that phone, I'll use this one."

"Blake Euland." Morse shook his hand. He swallowed.

"Morse," he sighed, "Endeavour Morse." Blake's eyebrows raised.

"Quaker?" Morse nodded.

"Mother was, father was fond of Captain Cook." Morse replies carefully.

"Hmmm… Interesting." Blake moved to the phone and Morse moved to the other. Carson stared at the number Morse was dialing. Morse kept an eye on the criminals and the girl, but also the tall young man.

"Jakes mate, how are you?" Morse was getting nervous, he turned at a light snapping. The man was older, definitely a DI, slightly scruffy around the chin, otherwise appropriately dressed. He looked at him and rolled his hand. Morse nodded understanding.

Jakes was agitated, he kept turning back to look at the empty desk, where the annoying Morse had once sat. It made him mad, not having him here, he belonged here… more than he did. His phone rang.

"Sergeant Jakes," he blinked, was he seriously hearing this right now. "Morse?"

"Yeah, it's me, we have a bit of a breakout situation and I need a lift." Jakes blinked. Did he just….

"Wait, there's a breakout at county?"

"Yeah I know, it's a little unexpected and last minute, but surely you can do a bloke a favor?" Morse was starting to get antsy. "Are you drunk or something?" he asked Jakes quietly.

"No." He saw the officer in front of him tense up and turned, he jumped and was grabbed by the man, Blake. He took the phone from Morse.

"Hello, don't bother coming, your friend has a ride, although doesn't sound like you're particularly interested in helping him anyways."

"Morse? Who the hell is this?" Blake quirked his head at Morse who was staring at the hand just below his shoulder. He swallowed as he heard Jakes yell his name again. Blake hung up the phone and pulled him up. Morse once standing stepped back, but Blake did not let go. Blake smiled, and pulled him over a little before letting him go. His hands went behind his back, a sign of private schooling.

"Don't want you getting pulled over the desk now do we?" Morse looked at him, and then looked at the other criminals who were mostly ignoring them. He turned to Blake.

"Thank you."

"You're a copper." Morse's head raised up and looked at him.

"What makes you think that?" Morse asked, although he sounded more curious than argumentative. Blake smiled.

"Your friend called you Morse, last name, few friends do that, but plenty of work colleagues, and you don't have the look of a criminal about you." Blake smirked, "not to mention that was some shoddy code work. Not that bright, is he, your colleague?"

"Why aren't you turning me in?" Morse stood and Blake grabbed his wrist and twisted it behind his back. Morse breathed in but kept quiet as Blake pulled him close.

"I think it will be more fun to play with you a little." Morse stared straight ahead, while Blake twisted his wrist.

"You're not well trained are you?" Morse flinched. Morse took deep even breaths in preparation. "If you answer my question, I might not." Morse straightened up as best he could and closed his eyes. Tate flinched as he heard the sickening crack, Morse leaned forward slightly breathing deeply.

"Oh ho," Blake chuckled, "a high pain tolerance, yes, you are sport. Tell me, how many bullies have you had, being slight of build I find it hard to believe you had any kind of shortage of antagonists. Not to mention being quiet as you are, I can only imagine," Morse bit his lips as Blake gave twist of his wrist. "Exactly how far some of them got." He was leaning by Morse's ear and checking back every so often to ascertain as to whether or not they were noticed.

"You would know." He flinched as his wrist was jerked back.

"What?"

Tate stared at him, he needed to shut up, but he had a distinct feeling that was not Morse's strong point, making him wonder exactly what had happened to land him in this position. Carson was edgy, he wanted action, and it didn't take a genius to figure out where this was going.

"What did you say?"

"You're a bully Euland, but let's face it, you're worse than the average bully. Do you know why?" Blake let go of his wrist and grabbed his arms right above the elbows.

"You couldn't take it, you got picked on and you couldn't handle it, so you built up some muscle, and you learned how to dish it out, but instead of using it to defend yourself or protect others, you chose to bully them just as you had been." Morse swallowed back something, a scream, pain, Tate didn't know, but he desperately just wanted him to shut up. "But it didn't work, because instead of them seeing you as an equal, they saw you as violent, as a monster, because you took it too far. You have no friends, just allies, and you never will until you stop trying to be what you're not." Morse winced as he was jerked back against Blake.

"And you Morse, where are your comrades? You're here, and I don't see them trying to defend you, not even those officers over there, who you've strategically positioned to give cover to. Not one of them speaks up to defend you, because you are lower, they fear you because they don't understand you, and they hate you because you are smarter than they ever thought of being." He squeezed and Morse winced. "So tell me, who is being someone they're not? You standing there pretending to be a police officer, or me, the one in control?" Morse suddenly smiled.

"I am a police officer, and you are not in control. Number one I am Detective Constable Morse. Number two, my friends, are here, and number three you forgot something." Blake swung him around and Morse held up both his hands. Blake Euland's eyes widened.

"Where's the pistol?" When Euland looked up a slightly muscular officer with a prominent brow held the pistol up and had it aimed at him. At that moment the front door burst open and several officers barged in, all from Cowley station.

Morse carefully walked around the criminals who were focused turning between the officers.

"Miss Thursday." Joan and the man holding her turned, he nodded at her and she turned away. Morse elbowed the man in the nose and pulled Joan toward him hitting the wall.

"Jakes!" Morse saw the gun raise up and shoved Joan out of the way, two shots made their way into Morse who fell dazed against the wall. Jakes was frozen, there was a scream as Joan Thursday turned and saw the red blossoming on Morse's shirt. There was another gunshot, the man who shot Morse fell. One bullet from Strange, one from Carson, who began rushing forward to check on the young DC.

Morse heard crying, who though, he felt like he was under water, until a flash of white hot pain brought him back to clarity. He cried out and looked down, a trench coat was pushed onto his wounds.

"Easy Lad, easy, you'll be all right." That's when he became aware the crying was from Miss Thursday.

"Joan, Joan are you hurt?" she turned to him.

"Morse? You, you called me…."

"I am sorry Miss Thursday, wildly inappropriate. Are you hurt?"

"No, and no, it is Joan, you can call me that, really." The scruffy faced officer directed her to push on the wound and she did so. He cried out again.

"Morse, Morse, you have to stay awake okay, stay with us here, help is on the way." One of the criminals tried to break free.

"Keep him talking." The scruffy man, who was in fact DI Martin Tate turned to assist.

"Morse, oh God Morse please…." She pushed. He looked at her.

"Joan." Her head shot up to look at him.

"The…." He hissed in pain and closed his eyes, then opened them again. "The fountains mingle with the river, and the rivers with the ocean. The winds of heaven mix forever with a sweet emotion. Nothing in the world is single all things by a law divine in another's being mingle, why not I with thine? See the mountains kiss high heaven and the waves clasp one another. No sister flower could be forgiven if it disdained its brother. And the sunlight clasps the earth and the moonbeams kiss the sea, what are all these kissings worth if thou kiss not me?" Joan stared at him.

"That was…."

"Shelley. Love's philosophy." He said smiling he looked up at her. "I suddenly realized as much of a classicist as I am I have yet to read a line of poetry to you, how disreputable of me."

"Actually, I was going to say it was beautiful, and you're the first one to read poetry to me, so your reputation is safe with me." Morse chuckled and then winced. "Actually, I have a secret about my reading of poetry." Joan looked at him curiously.

"What kind?" she waited patiently as Morse winced and swallowed.

"I didn't get along with my stepmother, actually, we still hate each other, and she hates poetry. So I read it intentionally to annoy her." Morse watched as Joan started shaking with laughter. Morse painfully quirked his head.

"Oh my god, you're, you're a poetry reading rebel." Joan laughed. "And here I thought you were a polite proper gentleman, just wait till I tell my dad."

"Your father, how is he?" Guilt suddenly consumed him, in the heat of the moment he had put the fact that his superior had been shot behind him.

"He's stable, he wasn't awake yet when I came here, but he's going to make a full recovery."

"Why, why are you here then?" Morse asked confused. Joan smiled softly.

"For you, someone had to come and check on you." She chuckled. "Besides, Dad will be furious and asking for you, and we'll all hear it if nobody knows how you are." Morse smiled, and then he started drifting off.

"Morse, Morse, wait, stay with me, please?"

"Endeavour." She looked at him. "I don't think I ever told you my first name."

"Endeavour?" she stared at him, and wrinkled her nose. "I don't like it." Morse roughly shrugged.

"Neither do I," he sighed.

"Dev." He looked at her.

"Dev?" she nodded. "I don't think anyone has ever called me that before."

"Good." She said smiling and continuing to apply pressure. "It's really important that I be a first for something with you. And who knows, maybe it'll bring you around to a more hip way of thinking."

"Hip?" he winced as she pushed some more.

"Yeah, hip."

"That'll be a first." Morse guffawed.

"Look, another one, we're on a roll." Joan said smiling.

"We?" he asked. "What are we?" Joan bit her lip thoughtful.

"I don't know yet, but I'm really looking forward to finding out, I mean, you're nothing like my other boyfriends, you're completely different." She smiled again, much as Morse didn't want to, he was beginning to like seeing that smile.

"I like that."

"About bloody time!" Some men showed up with a gurney and Morse was heaved up and headed for the ambulance.

"Joan?" he asked.

"Morse, I'll be at the hospital soon, I promise!"

"Hold up!" Joan was pulled along as Morse was being loaded. DI Lawrence Carson, the man who shot the shooter, thrust Joan at the ambulance. "Have her looked at will you?" Joan was pulled up and her hand wound its way into Morse's.


	2. Humourless Humour

**Disclaimer: I do not own Endeavour, nor do I own any of its characters. Sadly I am not as devoted to Morse as I am Endeavour, so this will not quite follow the path into Morse as it should, but this is fanfiction, hence why you are allowed to make what decisions you like. Well, (That actually probably didn't come out right, and if it didn't I am sorry.) I just got over a little bout of flu and my head is still a wee bit cloudy. Oh, because I am lousy at describing people and features DI Martin Tate is David Tennant, DI Lawrence Carson is Christopher Eccleston and Blake Euland is in fact Benedict Cumberbatch.**

After spending a week in hospital Morse was returned to County, although he hardly looked well. He was paler than when he first arrived, and he was clearly in pain. Worse yet was the fact he arrived in the same outfit he'd worn leaving. DI Carson walked up to him removing the handcuffs.

"You look like hell." He said. Morse shrugged and then winced.

"Um, not that I'm arguing, but I was told that I was not to return to cell block until it had been discussed with your superior, something about Chief Superintendent Bright and your superior meeting…." He left off as a man came up with handcuffs, dressed very much like Superintendent Bright.

"Have a coffee Morse, meeting will start when Bright arrives."

"Thank you sir, but no, doctor's orders, accusations of insomnia or something of the like." Morse looked around suddenly and then shook his head.

"All right Lad?" Morse straightened and nodded.

"Sorry, Sir, I do not believe I ever got your name."

"DI Martin Tate, and this here is Lawrence Carson, also DI." Morse shook both their hands and winced.

"Sorry Mate." Carson noted the bandage around Morse's wrist.

"Still getting used to it." Morse said. Carson nodded.

"Ah Morse," he turned and then bowed his head slightly at the look on Chief Superintendent Bright's face. "Good, God, didn't they bring you a change of clothes?"

"No Sir," Morse acknowledged somewhat sheepishly.

"Well, I shall have to have a word with Thursday or Jakes." Morse nodded. He followed the man from earlier, obviously Chief Superintendent of this particular precinct. He turned.

"Oh Morse, try not to be too obvious, I would hate to think what the civilians might make of you." Morse nodded before he could confirm anything or respond Bright continued.

"Maybe you could look over a case file or something, goodness you've complicated enough of ours, maybe try making someone else's life difficult for a change." Morse simply nodded as they went in and hung his head when they left. His head cocked as he looked over a case file, when he heard a somewhat disdainful remark.

"It's called sarcasm Morse." He stood up and looked at Jakes. Jakes grabbed the case file and placed it on another desk. "I hardly think Bright wants you causing any more trouble between County and City, besides, know where your loyalties lie." Jakes got up and left heading toward what Morse presumed were the restrooms. Morse rolled his eyes and picked up the case file, meaning to deposit it back on the original desk when some papers lipped out he caught them as well as the photograph and began to read through them. He ended up picking up a pen and Tate raised an eyebrow as it began tapping against the side of his head as he read.

"Nice to see some things never change." Morse jumped up and winced. He smiled a thoroughly genuine smile.

"Sir, you're all right." The man frowned.

"What in God's name, Morse…." DI Thursday shook his head. "Morse is there no one you could have asked for a fresh shirt?" Morse made a face.

"There you are." The girl that they recognized as the hostage and an older woman came through. "Mum, have you got that bag with the shoes?" Morse cocked his head in confusion.

"Right here Luv," she replied smiling. "Hello Morse dear, oh my." She touched her chest, Morse crossed his arms and swallowed.

"Very sorry Mrs. Thursday."

"Morse Luv, it's Win." She said smiling sadly at him, her attention was stuck on his shirt. He felt a touch on his arm.

"Miss… Joan." She nodded. And Morse nodded as well, probably acknowledging the slip up.

"It'll do Dev, now go on, go get changed, there's a proper suit and tie in there, new shoes and everything. Just put your old stuff these bags."

"Joan, there was no reason really," he tried to protest, but she simply removed the folder from his hands, placed the bags in them, and pushed him towards the location of the restrooms.

"If you're not changed in ten minutes I'm coming in there to check on you." Morse turned mouth agape with shock. "And come out with your shirt unbuttoned, your bandage and wrapping needs changing, and I know you're having an awful time of it." He turned lips pursed almost as if to argue, however, when she placed her hands on her hips and fixed him with a firm stare he simply turned himself around muttering slightly and headed into the bathroom. Thursday crossed his arms amused watching his young assistant.

"Jesus Morse, you look like a bleeding vampire." Morse walked out shirt unbuttoned but uneasily.

Tate had to agree, the black suit against the pallor of his skin, made him look like a vampire. The reddish hue hair only helped him to stand out, never mind those wide bright blue eyes of his. Regardless of his comment, he didn't know who the Jakes was, but he was beginning to get annoyed with him.

"Some people ought to have manners." Joan hissed, Morse walked over concerned.

"Are you all right?" he asked her, she turned to him incredulously.

"He's Jakes." He said shrugging with a wince. She laughed and pulled him over removing the bags from him and instructing him to hold up his shirt.

"What are you doing?" She removed her gloves.

"This will be a bit cold." She said, rubbing an ointment over the healing injuries, he winced. "Now this here will reduce scarring." She said.

"Cold, much colder than the first one." He bit his lips and looked up. She smiled and wrapped a fresh bandage and wrap around the injuries. Morse nodded as he buttoned up his shirt.

"I feel better actually." Morse said. Joan smiled and he blushed slightly as Win's eyes watered at the pair of them, she clapped her hands once. Morse stepped back and Joan simply handed the file back to him smiling. Morse gave her a small genuine smile and he sat on the edge of the desk reading the file.

"Anything interesting?" Morse sighed and closed the file. He breathed out and rolled his eyes. "If I'm bothering you…." Morse looked at her then shook his head coming awake.

"No, so sorry…" He gave a cough and continued, "Joan, so sorry Joan." Joan gave a wry smile and crossed her arms. "No just, uh, well, nothing." He shook his head. "Perhaps you could tell me what you are still doing here? Shouldn't you be heading off to work?"

"Nope, someone has to make sure you eat a healthy meal. If you are staying here, then Mum and I will bring you something, if not, you're to come home and have a nice home cooked meal." Morse stood up to speak.

"Meatloaf with gravy, mashed potatoes, and roasted carrots." She said looking at him, Morse sat down and raised his hands, giving a slight chuckle.

"How?" was all he asked, looking at her mildly impressed. She gave a shrug and replied somewhat cheekily.

"I took a guess." Morse gave a laugh, a good one and nodded.

"Well, as the lady wishes." Joan sat up preening like a peacock. Thursday gave a slight cough and Morse stood up at once wincing.

"Morse, have a seat, Joan, you and your mother go for a walk; I need to have a word with our young Morse."

"Dad?" Joan turned to her mother exasperated.

"Come on Luv," Joan grumbled and was on her way out, "Fred." He turned to his warning wife's voice and looked at her.

"Just a word." He said. She nodded and smiled at Morse, who smiled back. The two ladies went out, Joan complaining about her father scaring everyone off.

"You two are getting on again." Morse nodded. "I noticed after, well, after your dad you two didn't really talk."

"Um, Sir…." Morse shook his head sitting up straight. "It's, no…." Morse shook his head.

"Look, I'm not sure, what it was like growing up with him, Lord knows I get the impression that you two didn't get on, and maybe it's worse than I think, either way, I'm glad you two are talking again, but do me a favor eh?" Morse nodded and looked at him expectantly.

"When you take her out, try not to take her to those seedy places like the moonlight room and such, try and take her someplace…."

"Respectable sir?" Morse supplied. Thursday nodded. Morse stood and looked Thursday in the eye.

"Sir, I don't know for sure exactly what Joan and I are doing, but I can promise you this much, I will always treat her with the utmost respect, and I would never lower her standards in any way." Thursday nodded.

"However, I am not beyond listening and responding to a request." Morse stated and shrugged. Thursday nodded. He suddenly turned to Morse with a curious expression.

"Morse?"

"Sir?"

"What made you take Joan to the Moonlight Room, I mean, that doesn't really seem your speed?" Morse froze up and Tate happened to sneak a peek at Jakes who was watching the whole thing with a sense of unease. Morse was trying to respond when Bright came out and called Thursday into the room.

"Right, sir." He gave Morse a strange look and headed in. Morse slouched in his chair and looked almost hopefully at the cell block.

"Just make something up." Morse turned to Jakes.

"I am not about to lie to him over that."

"Well, say she wanted to go." Morse turned to ignore him then suddenly turned back.

"Why did you?" Jakes looked up brows raised. "Why did you take Joan to the Moonlight Rooms?" Jakes looked at him smirking.

"Are you serious?" he asked and Morse nodded. Jakes suppressed a laugh, and looked at him. "And exactly where would you take a girl?" Morse shrugged.

"Dinner, a cinema, a concert or recital of some sort, I don't know, it would depend on the woman."

"Yeah, some of that might work if you were dating some fifty or sixty year old bird, but if you're looking at the younger generation, they want dancing and music, good music. Not your…. Opera." He said with a slight smile. Morse sighed and shook his head. Jakes looked over at Morse and took a drag of his cigarette.

"I took her to the moonlight room because that is the kind of place that happens to be her speed. You know, fast, dancing, music." Morse turned and looked at him.

"Jakes, what were you thinking though, I mean, surely you knew that Mr. Thursday and that Casper fellow were on bad terms, do you not think it was a little… dangerous?" Jakes looked at him.

"You really are a wet blanket aren't you Mate?" Morse's jaw took on a certain set.

"It's one thing Jakes to put yourself in danger, it's a whole other matter to involve an innocent bystander." Jakes just looked at him brows raised. "Especially the daughter of a colleague." Morse simply stared back at Jakes and Jakes leaned back looking at him. Suddenly he smiled.

"You know what Morse," he leaned forward and Morse braced himself. "I've missed you," Jakes leaned back. "There's a definite lack of stuffy Oxford pride when you're not about." Morse shook his head and turned to the door opening signaling the return of Joan and Win Thursday. Morse went to stand but a well-timed glance from Win sent him sitting back down. Joan was all smiles as she came and sat down on the edge of the desk.

"If you like," he said, offering the chair, but it was Joan's turn and Morse sat down and threw his hands up. Joan sat on the corner preening while Morse shook his head with a smile. Win Thursday was positively aglow with delight. The door from the office opened and Chief Superintendent Bright, the county Chief, and Thursday came out. Thursday had a dark look on his face.

"Sir?" Morse asked, standing. Thursday stopped and shook his head.

"Morse." Morse nodded, concerned and looking at all three. "Until any evidence appears that you're in fact guilty, you are released on your own recognizance." Morse nodded still uneasy at the look on his superior's face. He abruptly turned to Bright, realizing he had been speaking to him.

"Sorry sir," Bright held up a hand and looked at him quite steadily. There was something different in the way he was looking at him.

"Morse, I have some good and bad news." Morse straightened.

"I'm afraid that your flat has been rented out to another tenant." Morse winced, "However, Strange did manage to procure your things, which are sitting at your desk back at Cowley." Strange appeared and Morse nodded at him. Strange nodded back. "On the good side, you are free to go, and I believe Thursday is wanting you to stay with him until this mess clears up. It goes without saying I think it is the best option for you." Morse nodded.

"You shall be put on light general duties on your return to work." Morse nodded, unhappy, but accepting, Bright nodded. "I know that you're not a fan of it, but due to your injuries, I think it would be best."

"Actually Sir, everyone turned to Thursday. I'd rather not have Morse working at the moment."

"Thursday?" Bright asked curiously.

"Well Sir, I just had a thought, Morse missed the last Sergeant's exam, and the next one is in three weeks." Morse looked at the nearest paper and made a face.

"Five weeks Matey, including hospital." Morse nodded at Strange and rubbed the back of his neck.

"I think it would be best, if Morse, were to focus on healing and studying." Thursday said.

"Morse?" Morse looked between Bright and his superior for a moment.

"I could use the extra time, I haven't been able to study as proficiently as one might like recently. If Sir could put up with me for the three weeks, it would be no problem."

"You'll have a place until you have a new flat." Morse nodded in affirmation.

"Well everything is in order."

"Morse," he turned to Thursday. "Drive to Cowley to pick up your things, then take Win and Joan home." Morse nodded. "And Morse," he turned, "I want you to read or rest, nothing else, you got that?" Morse made a face and nodded.

"Yes, Sir, read or rest, nothing else." Morse turned.

"And Morse?" Morse turned, "I don't know what's in that file, but you put it on hold, once you're a DS then you can have a look and offer an opinion or two. Till then, forget it." Morse nodded with a slight flush.

"Sorry Sir." Morse offered his arm to Joan who took it, giving a giggle and gently nudging him.

DI Martin Tate leaned against a desk trying not to laugh at Morse, who was quite humorous, despite not being funny intentionally in the least. They had been holding him five weeks including his hospital stay. Morse was a curiosity to be sure.


End file.
